What's A Drink Between Old Friends?
by The Mouse of Anon
Summary: Set in the same universe as 'I Remember'. Things have been quiet since the Lost Boys left, so Peter decides to bother Hook when the pirate captain is alone. Contains various pathetic insults and talk of elves burning rum. Rated T to be safe.


Disclaimer: I don't own Peter Pan… Or James Hook… But I do own the idea behind this bizarre little story and the drag-lock thing. Don't worry, you'll understand it when you read it. I hope. So yeah, no sue I.

Author's Note: Umm… I really have no explanation for this. Okay, so admittedly the truth is that I got this idea of Peter and Hook getting together and reminiscing after going on a fic binge. Going by my usual Peter Pan universe of course; so Peter's older than he normally lets on and he's actually been lying to almost everybody, and Hook is one of the only ones that knows the truth because they used to be friends. If you want a better explanation go read my fics I Remember and I Can't Forget. Other than that, I'm only rating it T so as to avoid (anal) people going 'oh noes! Peter can't evun think ov getting drunkerd in a fic related K! OMG!' So yes, enjoy, C & C is greatly appreciated, and review!

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Peter and Hook glowered at each other across the table, but both kept their seats. Hook's men had shore-leave so he was alone on his ship with the elf whom he was currently trying to glare down. Peculiarly enough, there wasn't a hint of Tinkerbell's presence either. Neither made any move to attack the other despite the variety of weapons currently at hand; the definition of 'weapon' encompassing everything down to the chairs and quill pens in the room.

Finally a slow grin crept onto Peter's face as he leaned back in his chair, his pointed fangs sliding into view as his lips tugged upward. "Face it James, you need to unwind as much as I do. At least for a little bit."

"Impudent child," Hook growled back as his namesake gouged another scar into his already mangled table.

"Back-stabbing pirate," Peter returned, the amusement in his voice practically overflowing. Slender fingers that had once been familiar trailed idly along one of the many gouges in the wood, unintentionally reminding Hook of times long past.

"That you would dare even _think_ of intruding upon my ship when my crew is absent… And your 'request'! …Bad form Pan. Entirely inappropriate!"

The graceful elf gave a derisive snort. "Inappropriate how? I fail to see why talking to you should be considered 'bad form' on my part."

Slamming his hook into the table Hook roared, "Because you intruded on me ship you insufferable git! An' your request is bleedin' unbelievable! The _nerve_ you have Pan… It makes me want to kill you all the more."

The red-headed elf regarded the pirate captain seriously with large green eyes for a few minutes before snickering. Laughter bubbled forth unbidden as he pointed out, "Yes, but need I remind you that I've been here for an hour and you haven't done a thing about it yet?"

A dark glare met the statement of the obvious. Several minutes passed before Hook decided his long-term nemesis wasn't going to leave. "I _will not_ stoop to granting you that foolish request. _Will NOT_."

Peter tried desperately not to laugh at Hook's emphatic refusal, but it was a losing battle. "What is so bad about sharing some wine? Or are you beginning to hoard that too?"

"Insolent boy! I should-"

"James… dropping paint on Rufio," the elf interrupted cheekily. Hook's expression was one of shock; whether about Pan bringing up the ancient incident or that he had remembered it was impossible to determine. "Stashing rotting meat on Black Hawk's ship," he added.

"That's-"

"Running from the ground-dragons to Ember with a dead deer and shoving it into his hands," Peter finished with a wicked grin. Hook twitched, his emotions difficult to decipher. "With all the times we've found reason to share a few glasses of wine, don't you think it's a bit ridiculous of you to insist that it's 'bad form' for me to show my age?"

A defeated look crossed the pirate's face as he let out an exasperated sigh. "Pan, where is that damnable fairy of yours?"

The redhead eyed the nails of his right hand with an air of boredom. "Elsewhere. I believe I managed to convince her that she had to go visit relatives or something."

"…You're entirely too damned intelligent for your own good Pan. Too damned manipulative as well, old friend or no."

Green eyes flicked from the elf's fingers to his former-friend, amusement practically burning in their forest-shadowed depths. "That could easily be blamed on the fact that I'm older than you."

Hook gave another sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Pete… I should have killed you back when I first became a pirate."

A red eyebrow arched upward. "Does this mean you're going to finely give in and stop gripping that wine bottle hard enough to strangle one of your crew?" A not-so-heated glower met the question as the pirate captain pulled said bottle closer.

"What will those damnable Lost Boys think if they see you 'fraternizing with the enemy'?" Hook sneered back, trying to gain back what ground he'd lost in the argument.

"In case you've forgotten James," Peter stated, the amusement rippling just under the surface, "I haven't led a group of Lost Boys since the last group ran off with Jane. I'm pretty much on my own aside from Tink. Ergo, the only one that I could horrify and terribly disillusion would be her."

"Then you can imagine some wine up for yerself! I'm not sharin' this!"

Silence stretched between the two yet again for a time before Peter once again broke it first. "You're _still _mad about that incident with the rum about a decade back?"

"_Yes_," James Hook snapped, his namesake nearly drilling a hole into the table.

"Oh come _on_. It's been ten years or more! It was just-"

"I can't bleeding well trust you with _any_ of me alcohol Pan! You either _burn _it or smash it to the decks! An' don't give me that shit about it being 'just an accident'. You _stole_ all of my rum and _set fire to it!_"

An irate look flickered across Peter's face. "That was because of the _swamp drag-lock_ James. I _know_ you haven't forgotten _that_ thing. If I hadn't found a decent way to create a fire that thing would've eaten everyone on your ship _and _me."

"Swamp drag-lock or no, you didn't need to set fire to my rum," Hook roared back. "You could've easily just _willed _a fire into existence and used the trees!" Never mind the fact that when the slimy giant monstrosity that looked to be rotting (a fact that hadn't been helped with the dripping wet swamp bracken clinging and dangling from its frame) had shot after him, he'd been quite happy that Peter got involved. Nasty things, fey like that. But _still_; the rum!

Green eyes rolled sky-ward as if beseeching patience. "If I had done that then there would have been an out-of-control fire to deal with. Whether you realize it or not, using that kind of magic is exhausting as hell."

"You still could have easily put it out afterward."

"…Again James, I reiterate, it's _exhausting_ trying to control elements like that. It wouldn't have done me any good to save you, and the island, only to pass out right after doing so. You'll excuse me for _not_ wanting to leave myself vulnerable around pirates that _you_ made my actual age and intelligence clear to."

"You still could have done something other than set fire to my rum!"

"So what? Next time you just _happen_ to stumble across a swamp drag-lock _while_ you've got me 'hostage', you want me to ignore it and continue on my happy little way?"

"Sod off Pan," James Hook snarled.

"It was over ten years ago. Let it go. Besides, it was rum. You used to hate rum. Not as much as grog, but whatever."

Blue eyes glowered at the elf for a solid five minutes. "I'm going to kill you in your sleep Pan," the pirate captain stated flatly.

"You tried that already, remember? Didn't work out too well, considering that I'm still here." Hook started temperamentally eying a nearby paper weight; he never really used it, but it was useful for throwing at people when he needed to. Catching the jist of Hook's thoughts, Peter shifted and let his bright green eyes dart to the wine bottle again. "Alright, so maybe I didn't need to burn _all_ of it…"

"You didn't need to burn any of it, you buggering bastard."

"…but there was the drag-lock," Peter continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"The bloody drag-lock doesn't enter into it you bloody buggering fey-as-hell poof! It was my _rum_. Not fuel for a damned fire!"

Peter blinked at first, surprised by the heated attempted-insult. It was nearly impossible to be offended by the truth, or what had once been the truth which wasn't the point; but never before had Hook's insults been so… _inoffensive_.Soon however, Pan was doubled over laughing. "L-like you're one to talk James," the elf cackled, trying to suppress the laughter tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He couldn't help taunting his old friend around his laughter."Lacking decent material for invectives today?"

"Shut _up_ Pan."

"And where do you get off calling _me_ 'poof' like it's an insult?" Peter continued, trying to straighten up so he could once again lock his eyes on the wine the captain held so possessively. "Last time I checked I've been celibate for… however many years… centuries… it's been," the elf waved a hand vaguely at his brief pondering of how much time had passed. "Whereas _you_ have not."

"And how would you know, you snarky git?" Hook didn't miss those green eyes gleaming as they took in the sight of the wine in his grasp.

An authoritative look slid into place on the elf's features, slowly breaking into a grin as he spoke. "James… you're a pirate. Pirates _don't_ remain celibate. Especially not anywhere near land; and I happen to know for a fact that you've been 'around land' for a _long_ time. Unless of course they're like you and are so obsessed with hunting down and killing their former best friend that they'd sooner pass up a decent shag after being deprived for a couple hundred years than miss the chance to kill said old friend." Needless to say, Peter had dropped into 'Pan' mode, and along with the mood-shift all of his propriety (and any real tendency to avoid run-on sentences) had gone out the window.

"…Go die in a hole somewhere Pan. You're an annoyance."

"And you're a prick; what's new?" the elf retorted.

"For the last and final time, I'm _not_ bloody well sharing _my_ wine with the likes of you! You… _Rum-burner!_ Bastard fey! Former human _reject_," James Hook snarled vehemently, desperately grasping for an insult that would sting the elf enough to cause him to leave.

Contrary to his wishes Peter not only didn't leave, but he also imagined two wine glasses into being and slid one of them over to the pirate captain. Despite the heated blue glare that was trying to bore a hole through his skull, Peter then leaned back in his seat to regard his long-time nemesis. Silence dragged through the minutes, causing a peculiar ache much like what James Hook felt any time he heard a clock ticking away. The pirate captain twitched.

"James," Peter finally said seriously, "Jamie, it's been well over twenty years since our 'war' went on temporary hold. Twenty years since I lost most of my reasons for fighting. Without that… Things have been hollow. I know you've felt it. Things are, for the time being, pointless. So why not 'eat, drink, be merry' and all that goes with it? We're at a stalemate and things are boring. Why shouldn't we get 'drunk as befits fools of old age with little attachment to the remainder of the world whilst reminiscing'?" The old chiming accent Hook had once known well slid into place the moment Peter dropped into a fairy-like mode of speech.

Hook sighed, his grip slowly relaxing on the bottle of wine. "Pete… Don't bloody well talk to me when you're being fairy-polite," even as he spoke he pulled the other empty wine glass toward himself and uncorked the bottle to begin pouring. "Otherwise I'll be forced to smash this damned bottle over your brainless head."

Peter gave a chuckle, his old feralness coming into sight as he relaxed. "Alright Jamie, I suppose I can grant you at least that much."

The pirate captain shook his head as he slid the wine glass to the elf. "Peter Fairy's-Child, you're as much of a damned anarchist as ever. This is happening _only_ this once. If you bring it up in front of anyone else I swear to god that I'm going to gut you."

"And I promise you that I'll keep my mouth shut. Provided of course that you don't try to use this little 'truce' to get back at me somehow," the elf smiled, his vibrant jungle green eyes beaming at his old friend over the rim of the glass.

Hook snorted as he snatched up his own goblet and gave an un-intimidating glower. "So you know, you owe me for this- _and_ the damned rum. I expect to be paid back in full... _discretely_ of course."

"The drag-lock was not my fault-"

"I don't care about the bloody drag-lock; I care that you set fire to twenty barrels of rum! _Twenty!_ If I'm to put up with you I think I deserve _some_ compensation for it."

Peter Pan arched an eyebrow. "Now who's being fairy-polite?"

"Shut up."

The green-clad elf smirked as he leaned back, propping his feet up on the table in the process. Holding his hard-won glass of wine aloft he stated, "To old memories, and the hopes that another drag-lock doesn't come along to defile your rum stores."

Despite Hook's grim look, his words carried the weight of humor as he followed Peter's gesture, "To memories, and the hopes that a certain irritating elf will learn to _leave my rum alone_." The red-head seated across from him couldn't help laughing.

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